The Fantasy of Now

the grey. ambivalent tornadoes. notches. patterns in her resolve.

the tunnel. guessing games. knots in the string between choices.

the loop. open sores. flaunt their pus.

the friction. tender scabs. clouds rub hard against the sun. because the light is false. only the darkness can be trusted.

her stage is soft. long tests with no wrong answers. just more questions.

her puppets are loud. the roar of concession. soft footprints braid the grass. Chasing monster they've never found.

If the map is true, then you are here. And I am content drowning in the wolf's mouth.

Frail splints name the confession. Heavy tourniquets reason with the wound. Nothing is this small. Nothing is this big.

The world arrives in fractions. Small holes in her panties. Minor integers usurped by the din of now.